“But you take it without sugar?” she said, smiling all the time, as if everything she said and everything the others said was very amusing and had a double meaning.

“It is not the sugar I want, but only that your little hand should stir my tea.”

Márya Hendríkhovna assented and began looking for the spoon which someone meanwhile had pounced on.

“Use your finger, Márya Hendríkhovna, it will be still nicer,” said Rostóv.

“Too hot!” she replied, blushing with pleasure.

Ilyín put a few drops of rum into the bucket of water and brought it to Márya Hendríkhovna, asking her to stir it with her finger.

“This is my cup,” said he. “Only dip your finger in it and I’ll drink it all up.”